


The List

by FalseProphet (Batmanthegroomer)



Category: Transformers, Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Cybertron Realized, Transformers: More than Meets the Eye
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-16
Updated: 2013-04-16
Packaged: 2017-12-08 15:52:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/763191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batmanthegroomer/pseuds/FalseProphet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First Aid abhors cleaning...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The List

**Author's Note:**

> First Aid med-bay shenanigans for xenotechonophile on Tumblr. Not quite on prompt but I hope it fits enough to be enjoyable. 
> 
> Time Period: Post war, months after the launch of the Lost Light

First Aid stepped back and placed his hands on his hips. His optics scanned the room and he shook his helm. How convenient that Ratchet was called by the Captain before the clean-up. That left the mess of a med-bay in First Aid’s care. He knew cleanliness was an important aspect of medical work but Primus if he didn’t hate it. That was all he seemed to be good for on Delphi. He would have done anything to get out of his predicament, had there been anyone else around to dump the work onto.

“And here I thought leaving Delphi would get me out of intern work.”

He off-lined his optics and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. He did not want to turn around as he heard the med-bay doors open.

“Yes?” He said quietly, tilting his helm.

“Aid! Buddy! How ya doin’?”

Swerve. Oh Primus, why of all people him. Anything… anything but Swerve.

First Aid turned around and was simultaneously pleased that Primus had heard his prayer and mortified. Swerve was not alone. The shortish red bartender stood in the doorway but peaking in eagerly behind him were Skids, Rewind and Tailgate.

“No.” First Aid said quickly, holding up a hand. “No I know those looks. Absolutely not. Whatever questions or problems you have can wait or—better yet—can be directed at Ratchet.”

“Ahh but Aid, Ratchet doesn’t talk to us anymore!” Skids protested.

“Of course not. He’s got good reason not to talk to the lot of you.”

“Yeah but, dis time it’s a real honest inquiry.” Rewind piped up as he pushed past Swerve’s legs. “We’re just dyin’ ta know and yer da only one dat can give us da answer!”

First Aid groaned and turned to put his back to the group once more. He rubbed at sore neck cables. He was starting to understand why all good, long term medics had a reputation of being grumpy and anti-social. He’d made the mistake of being overly nice to the crew of the Lost Light after his rescue from Delphi and now it was backfiring most magnificently in his faceplates.

Ratchet refused to answer certain… questions and Aid, eager to have people interested in his knowledge after being ignored and over-looked for so long, had given in and answered all of them. Unfortunately that now made him the immediate go-to ‘bot for all questions related to interfacing. It was not the reputation he’d hoped for.

“Please, First Aid?” Tailgate said quietly. He was the only one that sounded remotely sober.

First Aid sighed heavily and turned back around. He placed a hand on his hip and pointed accusingly at the group with the other.

“One question. That’s it and no promises.”

“You’ve seen the specs and blueprints on the crew, yeah?” Skids started, earning a cautious nod from the medic. “So… So…”

“You know everybody’s unique uh…” Swerve started, waving his hands as if searching for the words.

“We wanna know who’s got the five biggest spikes on da ship! Pro-proportionately.”

First Aid’s optics flickered. Tailgate began chuckling as the deeply polished Rewind blurted out the inquiry.

“You honestly expect me to answer that?” The medic was only slightly surprised when all four bots nodded. “Ha! You’re all insane. That breaches every aspect of patient-doctor confidentiality.”

“Wh-what if we do something for you?” Tailgate offered quickly, suddenly sounding as if he were desperate for the list.

“Absolutely not.”

“We’ll clean med-bay for you!”

First Aid felt his spark chamber clench unpleasantly. Under his supervision… Skids was much taller than First Aid so he’d be able to reach spaces the medic couldn’t and with Tailgate and Rewind those hard-to-reach areas would get just as much attention…

No! No he couldn’t just…

But that list wouldn’t hurt anybody. What would giving out spike specs do in the long run?

First Aid frowned and glanced from one eager face to the next. In the back of his processor he could hear Pharma ordering him around…

#

“Wow. You guys… this place looks great.” First Aid muttered, though he was clearly impressed. He rubbed the back of his helm, able to see his reflection in the nearest exam table.

He turned around only to see Rewind eagerly holding out a hand. The medic had begun to hope that the demands the group had made when they’d arrived had been forgotten. Clearly he was not off the hook.

“Fine.” He groaned. He turned around and picked up a datapad.

“This list stays between the five of us, do you understand? If I hear word of this around the ship anywhere I’ll personally sign you all up as Brainstorm’s new lab partners.”

First Aid hesitated only a second more before handing over the list. He walked away stiffly as he heard the group gasp.


End file.
